


Skeleton Key

by riyku



Series: Skam Sunday [14]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, M/M, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Somnophilia, true fucking love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyku/pseuds/riyku
Summary: This is physiology.  A conked-out teenaged boy on autopilot.  There's no intent behind it.  It could be the dregs of a dream, or nothing more than the pure creature need to make an ache go away.





	Skeleton Key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tebtosca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/gifts).



> for my dearest little mushy marshmallow. 
> 
> do you know how weird it is to write fully consensual, non-creepy somnophilia when my default setting is legitimately creepy-as-fuck-somnophilia?
> 
> also, sunday disappeared on me yesterday, but i'm still including this in the series, because y'know. i'm giving myself a little leeway this week. hope y'all don't mind!

There's time this morning. No work or school or rush to get out the door. Time for scrambled eggs and maybe pancakes, slow cups of coffee with Isak's ankle hooked around his under their little table, for scrubbing each other's backs in the shower and screwing around until the water runs cold. Better yet, time to let Isak sleep a while longer, and Even rolls onto his back in the bed, sneaks his arm under Isak's shoulders and kisses the corner of Isak's mouth. He doesn't mind the sour morning breath. Not even a little. 

Isak makes a low noise but doesn't wake up, turns toward Even and slides his leg across Even's hips, his arm across his chest. He settles into Even, all warm skin and smooth face, messy curls that Even pushes off of his forehead. Another hum and he shifts against him, hand coming up to wrap around Even's shoulder, and now Even can feel the press of Isak's cock against his hip, already half there and getting harder, heat bleeding through his boxers.

Warmth spirals out across Even's skin when Isak moves in a particular way, rocks into him and rubs his thigh against Even's crotch. He could wake Isak up. Perhaps he _should_ wake Isak up, tug on his hair and lick into his mouth, roll him over and weigh him down, maybe crawl under the covers and kiss the insides of his thighs until Isak comes to, then suck him off. Even's pretty sure he still owes him one, really needs to start writing this stuff down. He sorta wants to see how this plays out, however, see how far it might go, and the way Isak is rubbing against him is really fucking hot, and so is the slip of Isak's leg across his crotch with each slow roll of his hips. The sweetly innocent look on his face a counterpoint to the dirty grind of his cock against Even's side. 

This is physiology. A conked-out teenaged boy on autopilot. There's no intent behind it. It could be the dregs of a dream, or nothing more than the pure creature need to make an ache go away. But it's also _Isak_ , reaching for him in his sleep, opening his mouth against Even's bare shoulder on a needy, small whimper and the damp heat of his breath on Even's skin. It's the crease forming between his eyebrows and how his hips are speeding up, the sweat that's making the slide that much easier, the shudder and soft groan when Isak hooks his leg harder around Even's hips, works his body against Even's like he really means it, a few stuttering jabs of his hips and a catch in his breath as he comes, then goes still again.

Even waits, watching the flicker of Isak's eyes under his closed lids. Waits while Isak's hold on him loosens and Isak's come-filthy boxers start to stick to his skin, then he untangles himself and kisses the frown that forms on Isak's face at his absence. 

He decides to not say anything unless Isak says something first. He decides on pancakes. Definitely pancakes.

\---

There's a ritual to mornings like these. Curtains pulled back to make the kitchen bright with morning light, coffee percolated, fruit peeled and cut up because Isak will eat it, but only if he doesn't have to work for it. Pancake batter mixed and waiting for the sound of movement in the other room, the creak of the bathroom door and the rush of water running through old pipes. A spoonful of sour cream in the eggs.

Isak shuffles into the kitchen, stretching and beautiful. He's shirtless, his hair damp at the temples from the water he splashed onto his face. The boxers are different, and Even's face heats at the picture of Isak scrubbing himself clean, the idea of Isak's come-stained boxers balled up in the laundry basket beside Even's work shirts and yesterday's socks. 

Even pours him a cup of coffee, douses it with so much cream and sugar it's almost unrecognizable, then starts in on the pancakes as Isak steps up behind him, arms around his middle and his face against the back of his neck, swaying some to the pop song on the radio, still too tired to give Even crap over it.

"So, I ah…" Isak trails off, hand starfished on Even's lower stomach, pulling him close.

"I know," Even says, and shrugs like it's nothing. Like it wasn't the hottest wake up call since the last time he woke to Isak crawling down his body, mouthing at his chest.

"Fuck," Isak mutters. "Did you…I mean." He's talking in incomplete sentences this morning. It doesn't matter. Even is fluent in Isak's verbal shorthand.

Even turns to him to find him blushing. It's adorable but Even won't tell him that. He kisses him instead, tastes toothpaste. "You were sleeping." Another kiss. "And you seemed to be doing just fine on your own."

"How about you?" Isak's eyes are sleepy-bloodshot and growing darker, liquid black starting to eat up the green. 

"You were sleeping," Even repeats, and steers Isak toward the counter, then lifts him onto it, makes himself at home between Isak's spread knees.

Arms looped around Even's neck, legs squeezing around Even's middle, Isak tells him, "You could have." He slips his fingers up and digs them into Even's hair. "Maybe used my hand to get yourself off, leave me a little surprise for when I got up."

"You sleep so hard anymore," Even says, "I probably coulda opened you up slow, gotten you ready for me." Blood is rushing to Even's cock so fast he's going dizzy from it, head floating, sight zeroed in on Isak's smirk, the way he's biting on his bottom lip.

"Shit. Yeah. Waking up with you already inside of me. All over me." Isak sets his heels into the meat of Even's ass and keeps him there, snugged in tight. "Want it."

This is a step beyond fucking around in the bathroom at school, dangerously wondering if they might get caught, or an under-the-blanket handjob on Eva's couch while their friends are all a few feet away watching a movie, or yeah, sure, I'll put on these pink frilly panties but if you breathe a word of it to Jonas I swear to god I'm never gonna blow you again. This is Isak handing Even the skeleton key to his body and telling him he can use it whenever and however he wants. The sorta trust so complete that it almost seems like make believe. 

Even burns the pancakes, almost sets a dishtowel on fire, and Isak's coffee has gone cold before he ever gets around to drinking it.

\---

The lock on their door has a trick to it, pull the key out a millimeter before turning it, a real specific wiggle to get it back out again, and it takes Even three tries to get it right. In his defense, his head really isn't in the game. Isak had written him near the end of his shift, had said that he was gonna skip the party. That he was already drunk and kinda horny and that Even should skip the party too. He'd followed it up with twenty-one blue hearts, a mystifying rocket and a dolphin.

Even hears Isak before he sees him. Light snores from the direction of the bed that makes a fond grin spread across Even's face, has his heart kicking up double-time. Triple-time when his eyes adjust and he can see tight curve of Isak's naked ass and the crumpled blanket he'd barely yanked over his middle then must have kicked off again.

The rocket might be making a little more sense. Who knows what the deal is with the dolphin.

Even's quiet as he drops his bag on the floor, hangs his jacket up on the back of the chair, pulling his shirt over his head and stepping out of his jeans as he crosses the room, already aching for the warmth of Isak's skin and the smell of him, the weight of him on Even's chest. He skips a step as he gets closer, finds a note sitting on the dresser beside the bed. _Surprise me_ is written out in the overly careful way Isak sometimes gets when he's a little buzzed. He skips another step when he sees Isak's outstretched arm and the shine of slick coating his sleep-curled hand.

His lungs freeze as he palms Isak's ass, careful not to squeeze too hard, his fingers sliding across damp, slick skin, slipping into the crack of Isak's ass to find him wetter there. Hotter, and Even could get off just from the thought of it. Of Isak, maybe a little drunk and a little clumsy, heels propped against the mattress as he pushed inside of himself, working himself open. Making it so, so easy. _Thinking_ about it.

Isak wants this, and Even is not in the business of denying him anything.

Shorts shoved down to his thighs, Even wraps his fingers around his dick, already hard and damp, uses some of the lube Isak left behind to ease the up and down of his fist, thrusting his hips into his hand a couple of times while he experiments, slides his thumb into Isak's slack mouth, feels the hard surface of his teeth and the soft slickness of his tongue, the inside of his cheek.

"Fucking christ," Even says, less than a whisper and more like mouthing the words, not wanting to cut through the quiet slaps of skin-on-skin, the wet noises his fingers are making moving in and out of Isak's mouth, getting them shiny with spit, shinier still when Even dares to rub the tip of his cock against them, watch the pliant way the stretch and snag, leaves filthy smears of precome behind. He takes Isak by the hand, weaves their fingers together around his dick and fuck, that's even better. More slippery.

Some part of Isak's gotta realize how good it is, because he makes a soft, happy sound, hand twitching around Even's dick as he rolls toward him some, one leg hitching up higher, his cock resting in the cut of his hip, a bit thicker than it was before. Even slides into bed behind him, gets two fingers deep without any resistance, in and out so easy, and Isak mutters another noise that sounds close enough to Even's name, his mouth shaping into a little pout that Even has to lean over and kiss. 

Limp arms and limp legs and it's like Isak a doll, living, breathing and incredibly hot as Even pushes his leg up further, kisses the nape of his neck and then his ribs, feels the steady rise and fall of his chest as Isak breathes. Not a pause, not a stutter as Even slides inside of him and it's so fucking good, tight in a will power-shattering way and he drills into Isak harder than he means to right from the start, too much strength as he hugs Isak to him and burrows his cock in deeper, making Isak move with him, thighs notched together and feet tangled, his arms around Isak's chest.

Isak's breathing in small, forced-out grunts, almost drowned by the rush of Even's blood in his ears, the need to go faster, forget about being careful and quiet and slow, because moans are mixing in with Isak's nonsense now, and his cock is hard and slapping against the back of Even's hand. Hot and pulsing when Even grips him and starts to rub him off. And Isak is definitely saying his name now, growling it out and reaching back to pull Even into him as far as he can go, fingers knotted in his hair, mouth skidding across his cheek as Even fucks into him hard, skin feverish and whole body shaking as he comes.

"When did you wake up?" Even asks after Isak spills in his hand, as Isak sucks his fingers clean.

Isak grins at him, a sharp, wicked, _alert_ thing. "Does it matter?"

\--end

thanks for reading!


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